


1+2= (a family of) 3

by chanderson



Series: Young, Scrappy, and Hungry [22]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Fluff, Hypochondria, M/M, Sickfic, idk how else to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 03:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12004359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanderson/pseuds/chanderson
Summary: Lawrence is sick and George and Alex are total dads.





	1+2= (a family of) 3

**Author's Note:**

> IDK this is just a scene I've had in my head so here you go. This is set like a year or so after Outshine the Morning Sun. (If you haven't read that and are just randomly reading this: Lawrence was George's sister's son, she died and listed George as Lawrence's legal guardian, now he lives with Alex and George)
> 
> Lawrence calls George 'Dad' and Alex 'Padre' or 'Pa' for short. 
> 
> A lil angsty but mostly sweet!

George wakes up to someone hesitantly shaking his shoulder, pulling him out of a surprisingly good dream—something about Alex and a cabin in the mountains. He groans and blinks, eyes straining in the dark. 

“Dad?” 

George sits up and turns the lamp on, wincing as his eyes adjust to the light. Beside him, Alex makes a groaning sound and grumbles something under his breath. 

Lawrence is standing at the side of the bed, arms wrapped around his stomach, and George frowns. A quick glances at the clock lets him know that it’s a little after three in the morning. 

“Lawrence what’s wrong?” Alex sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Lawrence swallows and shifts his weight.

“I don’t feel well,” he mumbles to the ground. George immediately sits up straighter and nods. 

“I’m sorry honey. What feels bad?” 

Lawrence shrugs. 

“My stomach and head hurt.” 

“Do you feel like you might throw up?” 

Lawrence nods and looks up. His face is pale and beads of sweat glisten on his forehead. George’s face softens and he beckons Lawrence over. “Come here sweetie. Let me see if you have a fever.” Lawrence nods and sits on the edge of the bed. His forehead is hot to the touch and George frowns in sympathy. “You’re a little hot. How about we get you some medicine and sit in the bathroom for a little bit. We’ll get you something to drink that will keep you hydrated too, okay?” 

“I’ll call down to the kitchen and make sure we have some Pedialyte,” Alex murmurs before leaning over and grabbing the phone. Georgesmooths his hand over Lawrence’s forehead before leading him into the bathroom. 

“Just sit down in front of the toilet okay? I’m gonna get you some medicine.” George kneels down, knees cracking, and starts rooting through the medicine cabinet, looking for some Pepto Bismol and Advil. 

“I called down to the kitchen and they said we’ve got plenty of Pedialyte,” Alex says as he kneels down beside George, running a hand down his back. George nods and pushes a few bottles of cough syrup and some eyedrops out of the way so he can reach the tall bottle of Pepto Bismol in the back. 

“Thanks love. Can you pour him some of this?” Alex nods and takes the Pepto over to Lawrence, and George finally finds the Advil and taps out one of the pills. 

He takes the pill and a glass of water over to where Alex is sitting next to Lawrence on the floor. 

“Here you go bud, this should help with your headache, okay?” Lawrence nods and takes the pill, managing a few small sips of the water before handing it back to George. He rubs his eyes and sniffs. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I know you have an important day tomorrow.” George shakes his head and rubs Lawrence’s back.

“You always come first.” 

Lawrence shudders, his lips going pale, and George immediately flips the toilet seat up. “Here, scoot up a little honey.” He helps Lawrence move closer to the toilet and starts rubbing his back, politely turning his head as Lawrence gets sick. 

Alex silently gets up and wets a washcloth that he drapes over Lawrence’s neck. 

“I’m gonna go down to the kitchen and get some Pedialyte and see if they can brew some ginger tea. It works way better than ginger ale.” George nods and turns his attention back to Lawrence. 

He’s got his cheek resting against the toilet and he’s taking slow, measured breaths. 

George has to look away. Takes a deep breath. 

Lawrence is okay. He’s just sick. It happens. Kids get sick all the time. 

Except then Lawrence is throwing up again and George can feel the anxiety crawling up his throat, churning in his gut. 

George figures that he’s always going to be a bit of a hypochondriac. Even though it’s all so far in the past, he’ll never forget the feeling of impending doom he always had when Martha got her headaches, or the gut feeling that something was horribly wrong when Lawrence starting coughing all the time. 

He’ll never forget getting called to the school office with Lawrence and Betty where his mother was waiting for them, her eyes puffy with tears. 

_“Your father’s in the hospital and we need to go see him,”_ their mother said. 

George was the youngest, only 11, and it was confusing to him. He wasn’t dumb; he knew what was going on, but everyone told him that Dad was going to be fine, that he’d be home soon. 

Except he never came home and the next time George saw his father was at his funeral, laying there motionless in a coffin. And sure George’s father was a fucking bastard but it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt just a little bit. He was still ‘Dad.’ 

George blinks and reminds himself to pay attention to his fucking child. That’s his job. 

“Hey honey, is there anything you need? Are you hot?” Lawrence nods his head, not bothering to lift it up off the toilet. 

“Would it feel better if we took your shirt off?” Another nod. “Okay, I’ll help you get it off. I’m just gonna need you to sit up for a second.” 

“Kay,” Lawrence breathes. He sits up and shakily holds his arms up, and George peals his sweat-soaked t-shirt off. 

“Does that feel a little better?” Lawrence nods and motions to George’s lap. 

“Can I lay down? Everything’s spinning.” 

“Yeah of course. Hold on; I’m gonna grab a pillow.” George gets a pillow off the bed and lays it in his lap before helping Lawrence lay down. He curls up and sighs, his eyes immediately sliding closed. 

“Where’s Pa?” 

“He went down to the kitchen. He’ll be back soon.” George rubs Lawrence’s arm soothingly, trying to ignore how much Lawrence is reminding him of his brother. 

The long nights George spent sitting with him at night in the hospital, mopping the sweat off his face and holding his hand as he tossed and turned in pain. 

Sitting with him in his bed the night he died, talking to him to keep his mind off the pain. 

_“I just finished that book you loaned me. The Steinbeck novel. I liked it even though it made me cry.”_

It was the last thing George ever said to Lawrence because then he was vomiting blood and George was screaming and his mother was shouting and Betty was crying—

“George? I’ve got the Pedialyte. Is he asleep?” 

George jumps as Alex touches his elbow and Lawrence blinks, his forehead creasing. 

“No I’m awake.” 

“Sorry,” George hears himself say. 

Alex says something that George doesn’t really hear, helps Lawrence sit up and drink some of the Pedialyte, kisses his head and cracks a joke that makes Lawrence smile. 

Then Lawrence is laying back down in George’s lap with a sleepily mumbled ‘I love you,’ and George is biting his lip, his chest uncomfortably tight because _fuck_ he loves Lawrence so much. 

“I love you too buddy. Just let me know if you need to throw up again. I’ll help you sit up.” Lawrence nods and makes a little snuffling noise that makes George smile. 

Alex sits down then and kisses George’s shoulder, asks him what’s wrong in his ear. George just turns his head and kisses Alex so he won’t have to answer. 

His brother’s been dead for 24 years. He’s over it. It's fine. He's fine.

George combs his fingers through his son’s hair, smiling when he sighs in his sleep. 

\---

At some point, Alex brings a briefing on Congress' Medicare expansion pack into the bathroom and reads aloud from it, pausing to scrawl notes in the margin every once in a while. After he gets tired of reading it, George takes a turn, stopping to dictate Alex’s notes as he thinks out loud. 

They get a good chunk of it read before Lawrence’s eyes are flying open and he’s very urgently telling them that he’s going to throw up. It’s almost comical the way Alex fumbles to open the toilet lid and George helps maneuver Lawrence into a comfortable position. If their life was a sitcom, the obnoxious laugh track would definitely be playing right now.

Except then Lawrence is whimpering and tearfully telling them that he really doesn’t feel well, asking them to make it stop, and George feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest and stomped on. 

“Oh sweetie,” Alex sighs as he cleans Lawrence’s face off. “I’m so sorry you don’t feel well.” 

George gets him some more medicine, wincing when he throws up a mess of pink a little while later. 

Around six, Lafayette comes upstairs looking for them and frowns when he finds them camped out on the bathroom floor, Lawrence curled up shivering in George’s lap with his favorite blanket draped over him. George gives him a tired smile. 

“Hey, sorry. I’m going to have to come in a little late today. I’d like to at least stay with him until he’s feeling a little better.” Lafayette turns his gaze to Alex and he immediately shakes his head.

“I’m staying too. We’re a parental _unit_ , Laf.” Lafayette rolls his eyes.

“The whole point of the parental _unit_ is taking shifts,” he says dryly. Then, his face softening, “you two are so fucking cute. I’m so getting you each a #1 Dad mug.” 

“Don’t patronize us,” George teases. “And you’re one to talk, you know. You called Martha and I in tears the first time Geo got sick when he was a baby.” Lafayette narrows his eyes and scoffs.

“You exaggerate.” 

“Sure. You keep telling yourself that.” 

“Dad?” Lawrence blinks his eyes and looks around, squinting. George smiles and ruffles Lawrence’s hair.

“Hey sweetie. Sorry if we woke you up. Gilbert is here.” Lawrence nods and curls back up, eyes sleepily drooping closed. 

“Okay. M’going back to sleep.”

Lafayette smiles and gives George a little mock salute. 

“I’ll see you later,” he whispers. 

George lays the back of his hand against Lawrence’s forehead. He’s still burning up. 

“I hope this is just one of those disgusting 24 hour things,” Alex whispers. “Those fucking suck but at least they’re short.” 

“He’s still got a fever but he hasn’t thrown up in a while.” 

“Fuck, what if this is contagious?” Alex wrinkles his nose. “Five dollars that you’re the next to go down. You’re gonna be puking by tomorrow night. I’m calling it right now.” George rolls his eyes. 

“Well I feel wonderfully healthy, so I say _ten dollars_ that you’re in front of this toilet by lunchtime tomorrow. I mean, now that I get a better look at you, you’re looking a little pale sweetheart.” George leans forward and squints, pretending to study Alex’s face. Alex scoffs and crosses his arms. 

“You wish, old man. You’re going down. You better have me some money ready.” 

“Are you guys betting on who gets sick next?” Lawrence mumbles and George startles, laughing as Lawrence squints up at him. 

“We’ve gotta pass the time somehow,” Alex quips. “It was my idea, by the way. I’m betting that Dad is totally going down.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Lawrence says. “I think Dad was right, Padre. You’re looking a little pale.” Alex narrows his eyes and gasps dramatically, throwing his hand over his heart. 

“George, how dare you turn our son against me. I’m insulted.” 

Lawrence smiles and slowly sits up, shakily accepting the bottle of Pedialyte George hands him. 

“Sorry, Pa. I still love you.” Alex’s eyes crinkle as he grins.

“Apology accepted. And I love you too.” 

Lawrence takes a few small sips before shakily setting the bottle down. He presses his lips together and shudders but the Pedialyte stays down. George sighs in relief and rubs his back. 

“You feeling any better buddy?” Lawrence shakes his head and grabs his stomach. 

“Not really.” He shudders again and closes his eyes. “I’m just not that tired now. I don’t think I can sleep anymore.” 

“Okay that’s fine. We’ll sit here as long as you need.” 

“Don’t you have work?” Lawrence moves to lean his forehead against the toilet and George slides up behind him. 

“I already told you that you’ll always come first.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write them as a cute family b/c ahhhh.
> 
> Also totally a headcannon that Alex jokingly told Lawrence to call him 'Cool Dad' so sometimes, when they're joking around together Lawrence will call him Cool Dad so yeah that is going to happen at some point.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! I love comments :-)


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